Not Just Another Pretty Face
by Paradigm of Writing
Summary: "I'm sorry, but have I seen you from around here before?" I asked, looking at the stranger with admiration. The man frowned. "I don't think so... why do you ask?" I blushed. "It's just that, your face is extremely pretty and quite hard to forget. I wouldn't forget someone with a face like yours."


**Hey everybody, Paradigm of Writing here! This is going to be another one-shot in the SSBB section, and I call it... Not Just Another Pretty Face. Marth and Ike are our costars in this sweet little fictitious tale. I am typing this from another person's computer... my mom's computer. I've got an hour on my hands, and I think I'm going to see if I can get this one-shot down. It will be longer than 1000 words, but probably less than 3000. Expect little to no action after this because my life is very stressful at times... and the other fact that I don't have a computer anymore. But, anyways! Enjoy Not Just Another Pretty Face! OH, and one more thing. This is a gift story for a great friend of mine here, Angelic Land! Enjoy man!**

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><p>The ticking of the nearby clock really did not help keep my concentration set on one thing, that being my enormous Chemistry textbook I had splayed out over the table I was holding in he library. Studying for tests was never my strongest suit in school, and still isn't even today here in college. I'm Marth Lowell, a nineteen year-old Sophomore at Smash University in New York City, New York.<p>

But there was another thing aggravating me while I tried to study, besides the clock that was getting on my nerves with every passing second and that was the person sitting just a few tables away, also scrunched up into a book. This person seemed strikingly familiar, but I can't recall where I've seen him before. Yes... this person was indeed a guy.

This male is just drop dead gorgeous. His cobalt hair was like a dark wave of water crashing against the sand which nicely complemented his sandpaper toned face. Anytime he looked up, his blueberry eyes passed over mine, his eyes sucking my soul in and it wanted me to melt in his arms. Here's the funny thing. I've never met this guy in my life before, but I must've seen him earlier because he seems to precious for me to forget.

I swallowed, the lump in my throat going down like marmalade on pan, slowly scraping at the sides like a person who was buried alive trying to get out of their coffin. Bearing only my luck, I swung the strap of my binder over my shoulder, stood up and made my way over to the stranger who couldn't get out of my mind.

For a few seconds I let myself observe the stranger's surroundings and the stranger himself. He was a very muscular man, the outlining of his muscles bulged from underneath his tight uniform us university students were required to wear. The man had a light presence about him, and it was very comforting. His breathing caused the pages of his book to slightly flap up, and then back down. I cleared my throat and sat down in front of him. The man paused from his reading and looked at me, his face clear of any emotion.

I dipped my toe in the cold water. "Hi. I was just wondering, do I know you from anywhere? You look awfully familiar and I just can't put my finger on it."

The man furrowed his brow together, closing his book with no effort, the page being separated by his thumb. "No, that I know of. You might of seen me around campus though, I mean we are both wearing the same university outfit." Even his voice sound luxurious... oh Master Hand, is there anything about this guy I _don't _like?

I tried venturing out a little further into the murky water. "The reason I say that is, that face of yours is too pretty to forget."

The man blushed heavily, and hitched a breath. "I'm sorry, but did you just hit on me?"

I gave a slight smirk, and leaned across to him, brushing my hand over his. "So what if I did?"

The man stood up suddenly, knocking his chair back and causing me to spring back to my own. "Well, you see... I have a girlfriend. Last time I checked, I'm not gay."

My heart cracked in two. I fiddled with my binder strap, trying not to gaze at the lovely guy standing right in front of me. "Oh, I'm sorry. I just really wanted to come over here and tell you that you are an extremely handsome guy. Last time I checked, complements aren't necessarily considered flirts." My voice seemed to be filled with deject.

The guy breathed in heavily, sat back down and took his hand in mine. "I'm sorry. That was rude of me to be so blunt, but it's true. I do have a girlfriend, and I'm not gay. But, I do know something true."

"That being?"

The guy smirked at me, his lip quipping up ever so slightly. "I am a junior over at Smash University. Clearly I can tell you are a sophomore at the same school and you are studying for a chemistry test based on the textbook you have in your hands. I'm a tutor for freshman and sophomores at the university so possibly you could need my help. When's the test."

"Tuesday." I mumbled. I was studying eighty pages of chemistry notes on a Sunday afternoon... when the test was two days from now!

The guy reached into his back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a pencil and a small sheet of paper. Studiously, he bent over it and scribbled something down. Looking up, he thrust the sheet of paper into my hands. "Here is my number. Call it tomorrow at any time from two to seven p.m. and I'll be able to meet you back here for studying."

I looked at the paper numbly, this extremely hot guy just gave _me his phone number! _What else am I supposed to do? I brought my gaze back to up his gleaming sapphire eyes. "Thanks. What's your name?"

The guy smiled warmly. "I'm Ike. Ike Hanson."

I grinned back and stood to shake hands with him. "I'm Marth. Marth Lowell."

Ike broke his hand from my shake and slung his computer bag over his shoulder and gripped the book he was reading in his right hand. "Remember, call me from that time on that paper tomorrow, and we could meet here to study. Trust me, I'm good at this type of stuff."

"_I'm sure you are." _I thought jokingly, turning around to get my things.

Hmm... my afternoon just got a whole lot more interesting.

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><p>I stared at the piece of paper Ike gave me just a few hours ago. Without a second thought, I grabbed my cellphone off the desk and dialed his number. Bringing the phone up to my ear, I heard the monotonous buzzing that signified my call was going through. I heard Ike's voice come alive through the speaker.<p>

"Hello?" Ike asked.

"Hey Ike, it's Marth! You know, the guy you met at the library this afternoon... well, I really need to see you right now, and I'm serious about that." I blurted out, and then quickly I shut my mouth as fast as I had opened it. Ike breathed heavily from the other line.

"Marth? Have you checked the time? It's almost ten... and I'm over at my girlfriend's house. Are you really expecting me to just drop everything and leave to wherever you are?" he asked annoyed.

I nodded. "Yep! And since its ten, the library is closed. You'll need to come somewhere else."

I counted the seconds of silence between my statement and his nonexistent reply, when Ike dropped the question, "Where are you right now?"

"67839 Ranger Blvd."

"That sounds like someone's address." Ike commented nervously.

I gave a small laugh, the exhale kindling a warm little fire inside of me. "That's because it is! It's my address!"

"Oh." That was all he said, and then just like that, the call was dropped; static roared to life and gladly told me to get off it's lawn that was the phone.

I tentatively placed the phone back on its resting position on my kitchen counter, radioactive neon lights around the buttons giving the marble countertop a plasma like feel, the surface being extremely cold. This might just be the spot where I pin him against the counter to try a steal a kiss. I lolled back to my couch and plopped down onto the chilling leather. Ten minutes dragged by, that monotonous ticking from the library returning to my head. Twenty minutes passed, my eye lids started to droop. At thirty minutes, I just wanted to scream... when the doorbell rang. It felt like I had consumed a bottle of rocket fuel, for I shot up to the ceiling and back down because the sound of the doorbell ringing sounded like death knocking on my door when the only comfort and noise I had for an entire half hour was that resonating clock.

Jumping up, I latched onto the door handle and peered through the hole that required me to stand on my tiptoes to see. Muscular, tall, _blue haired, _and handsome was standing at my door, a chemistry textbook in his left hand, and a notepad with paper in his right. I unlatched the lock and opened the door, my smile the size of the Grand Canyon.

"Ike," I yelled happily, my voice being a little louder than I wanted it to, "You actually came. I almost was going to call you to tell you to not come, the visit would be null and void."

Ike smiled warmly, and pushed through me. "Well, it's 10:20. I'll help work with you until 11:30, and then I'll be on my way. Sound fair, Marth," I didn't answer. Ike turned to face me. "Marth?"

Without a second thought on my part, or any slight warning upon Ike's behalf, I leaned into his muscular frame and kissed him. His eyes widened and a small choking sound released itself from his throat. He pushed me away roughly, my body somersaulting over my couch to have me land smack dab on my face against the carpet.

"Sorry, I just had to do that." I croaked out, standing up and brushing myself off.

Ike's face was as red as dark wine poured out into a couple's glass on romantic dates. "What the hell were you thinking Marth? I told you already, I have a girlfriend! I'm not gay, and especially not for you! I actually think I should go, before you get any ideas yourself."

I leaned over my couch to stop him, to say something to change his mind, but nothing came to me, but the truth. "Go. What I did was wrong, and I'm sorry. There is something you need to know however."

Ike paused, one foot outside my door in the apartment hallway, the other foot still stuck in my radioactive isotope kitchen. "And that is?"

"I do have a science test on Tuesday, and it is indeed for chemistry class. But, my test is next Tuesday, not this one. I called you because I wanted to see you, not study with you." I confessed, working my way around the couch.

His mouth was frozen in objection, his hand raised to counter any of my words. When he spoke, his eyes seemed to be filled with genuine hurt. "So... you wasted my time? You made me drive twenty minutes from my girlfriend's house to come see you? Then you go and _kiss _me Marth! Man, if you told me you just want to see me, I could've taken you out to lunch or something tomorrow. But, instead you do this to me... and that was hurtful. Don't call that number again Marth. If you do, I'll come back here and beat you to a living pulp. You aren't worth my time of day."

With that delivering blow, Ike stomped out of my apartment and left me to swallow myself in my own depression.

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><p>"You've got to be kidding me." Ike said to my face as I walked up to the counter to order my Starbucks coffee.<p>

I smiled sheepishly. "Are you really not going to let me order? Are you some racist, some homophobe?"

I was out for my lunch break from my job down in Times Square, and decided I wanted a latte and some sort of dessert from my friendly neighborhood relative, Starbucks. This place was some sort of lifeline to people in college. Just drown the coffee down and go. The effects are staggering. When I opened the door, I realized I never have come to this exact Starbucks on my lunch break, and decided why not. My first glimpse of this place was not the ultra modern lights, or the chic mahogany seats with splashes of strawberry denoting pink lace or blueberry swirls. My first glimpse was Ike, Ike Hanson working the cash register and taking people's orders. I turned myself right around when a group of people burst through the door and somehow I ended up right where he was, smashed against the counter, my lips mere inches from his.

Ike's gaze was not helping, his eyes filled with tenacious venom, green goo dripping off some scorpion's stinger. He smiled wryly at my question, and the comforting light in his eyes flared up to a seething crimson. "No, I'm not, thank you very much Martha Lowell. What I do know though is that I'm someone who can keep their emotions together. What would you like? My boss is never too fond of people wasting his employees time."

I glowered at him. "I'll take a latte please, just straight up coffee. Oh, and a chocolate chip muffin." I handed him a ten dollar bill, and he reached into the register for the change.

"Will that be all, my majesty?" he asked sarcastically, the word majesty having sarcasm practically dripping off the end of it.

I sneered as I took my change. "No, thank you. I'm fine, you son of a-"

"Okay! Next customer please!" Ike yelped, pushing me aside to ask the next person in line their order.

Grabbing my coffee and my muffin, I stopped to gaze at a piece of modernized art, something I've never seen before. It was a picture of a thunderstorm happening over a valley. If I closed my eyes, I probably could imagine myself standing right in the painting, the natural phenomenon happening right above me. Clouds of slate wrapped over one another, flashes of lightning and peals of thunder causing a symphony to happen in the sky. Crystalline bullets of rain fell to the ground in a torrent, dominating the weak and feeble waves of emerald grass below, marking their territory. The flowers recoiled from the bombardment that was the weather, and it seemed cold... extremely cold. Wait... that's not in the picture-

"Ike, what the hell are you doing?" I snapped angrily, leaping away from the blue-haired disease that was Ike Hanson.

Ike blushed. "Marth, I'm sorry. I didn't see you there."

"Didn't see my there," I fumed, getting straight in the guy's face. "My clothes are dripping wet because you just spilled someone else's coffee down my back! Watch where you're going, you dumbass!"

Ike stared at the ground furiously, blinking every few seconds. "Sorry Marth, I truly am."

"And you know what Ike," I screamed at the top of my lungs at him, causing him to look up, "If you really are disgusted with me, just say it! Tell the whole world how horrible I am and just get on with life from then! I'm sorry for what I did last night, but I don't need you getting revenge on me for what happened. If you hate me, just say that you hate me. I don't see any point in making this charade longer than it's already going on for-"

I was stopped short by Ike, his frame slamming into mine and bringing my body in for a kiss. Time seemed to stand still, the interior of the Starbucks vanished, leaving just two college boys kissing in its midst. He broke apart from his embrace, his eyes twinkling a bright diamond spray. My mouth felt frozen and numb. I touched it precariously, afraid of what I'd feel. "Sorry Marth. I had to do that."

Before I could say anything, there was a loud sound of some girl clearing her throat. Ike and I simultaneously turned towards the sound, the noise coming from a girl standing about five feet from us, one high-heeled foot in the doorway, the other outside in the parking lot. Ike's face was priceless.

"Peach... I didn't see you there. I forgot that one o'clock was your break time. I can explain-" he started.

The girl, Peach that is, cut him off with a firm glare. "No need to Ike. I've seen all I need to see." She slammed the door to the Starbucks shut and ran back towards her Prius parked in the front.

I watched her get into the car and turn the ignition on. "Shouldn't you follow her?" I asked him, looking up at Ike.

He shook his head no. "No, why should I? She obviously saw what happened, and nothing I can say will deter her any further from how she's feeling."

I stood there agape. "You aren't going to follow her? Ike, she's your girlfriend! You must go and-" Another kiss broke my sentence off.

"She is not my girlfriend Marth, she basically just dumped me right here on the spot," He kissed me again. "Now, am I just another pretty face to you anymore?"

I smirked, and took the initiative. I leaned in and kissed him once more, my hands gripping his. "No Ike. You aren't just a pretty face anymore."

He's my pretty face now. That's all that matters.

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><p><strong>Well, there you go guys! That was Just Not Another Pretty Face. Sorry if it was not up to standard, but romance is never my forte, and I'm usually not in my element when I am typing one-shots. Yet again, this was a gift fanfiction piece to my good friend Angelic Land, so I suggest you drop by his profile and read what he has to offer. Disclaimer though. He really will make you blush! So that is all for today, and perhaps for awhile. This was typed on someone else's computer, and until I get my own again, I don't know what will happen. Love you guys! Bye!<strong>

**~Paradigm **


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